many whose existence ended with the stagione for which they werecomposed. But it is a singular fact bearing on the presentdiscussion that when the young "veritists" of Italy broke looseafter the success of Mascagni's "Cavalleria rusticana" there camealmost a universal desire to rush to the Neapolitan shambles forsubjects. New York has been spared all of these operas which I havedescribed in an earlier chapter of this book, except the delectable"A Basso Porto" which Mr. Savage's company gave to us in Englishsixteen years ago; but never since.

Whether or not Wolf-Ferrari got the subject of "I Giojelli dellaMadonna" from the sources drawn on by his predecessors, I do notknow. I believe that, like Leoncavallo, he has said that the storyof his opera has a basis of fact. Be this as it may, it is certainthat the composer called on two versifiers to help him out inmaking the book of the opera and that the story in its essence isnot far removed from that of the French opera "Aphrodite," by BaronErlanger. In that opera there is a rape of the adornments of astatue of Venus; in Wolf-Ferrari's work of the jewels enriching aneffigy of the Virgin Mary. The story is not as filthy as the otherplots rehearsed elsewhere, but in it there is the same strivingafter sharp ("piquant," some will say) contrasts, the blending ofthings sacred and profane, the mixture of ecclesiastical music anddances, and--what is most significant--the generous use of thestyle of melody which came in with Ponchielli and his pupils. In "IGiojelli della Madonna" a young woman discards the love of anhonest-hearted man to throw herself, out of sheer wantonness, intothe arms of a blackguard dandy. To win her heart through her loveof personal adornment the man of faithful mind (the suggestionhaving come from his rival) does the desperate deed of stealing forher the jewels of the Madonna. It is to be assumed that she rewardshim for the sacrilegious act, but without turning away from theblackguard, to whom she grants a stolen interview during the timewhen her true love is committing the crime. But even the vulgar andwicked companions of the dandy, who is a leader among theCamorristi, turn from her with horror when they discover the stolenjewels around her neck, and she gives herself to death in the sea.Then the poor lover, placing the jewels on the altar, invokesforgiveness, and, seeing it in a ray of light which illumines them,thrusts a dagger into his heart and dies at the feet of the effigyof the goddess whom he had profaned.

The story would not take long in the telling were it not trickedout with a multitude of incidents designed to illustrate thepopular life of Naples during a festival. Such things are old,familiar, and unnecessary elements, in many cases not evenunderstood by the audience. But with them Signor Wolf-Ferrarimanages to introduce most successfully the atmosphere which hepreserves even throughout his tragical moments--the atmosphere ofNeapolitan life and feeling. The score is saturated with Neapolitanfolk-song. I say Neapolitan rather than Italian, because the mixedpopulation of Naples has introduced the elements which it would berash to define as always Italian, or even Latin. While doing thisthe composer surrendered himself unreservedly and frankly to otherinfluences. That is one of the things which make him admirable inthe estimation of latter-day critics. In "Le Donne Curiose" he ismost lovingly frank in his companionship with Mozart. In "IISegreto" there is a combination of all the styles that prevailedfrom Mozart to Donizetti. In "I Giojelli" no attempt seems to havebeen made by him to avoid comparison with the composer who has madethe most successful attempt at giving musical expression to a dramawhich fifty years ago the most farsighted of critics would have setdown as too rapid of movement to admit of adequate musicalexpression? Mascagni and his "Cavalleria rusticana," of course. ButI am tempted to say that the most marvellous faculty of Wolf-Ferrari is to do all these things without sacrifice of hisindividuality. He has gone further. In "La Vita Nuova" there isagain an entirely different man. Nothing in his operas seems halfso daring as everything in this cantata. How he could produce afeeling of mediaevalism in the setting of Dante's sonnets and yetmake use of the most modern means of harmonization andorchestration is still a mystery to this reviewer. Yet, having doneit long ago, he takes up the modern style of Italian melody andblends it with the old church song, so that while you are made tothink one moment of Mascagni, you are set back a couple ofcenturies by the cadences and harmonies of the hymns which findtheir way into the merrymakings of the festa. But everythingappeals to the ear? nothing offends it, and for that, whatever ourphilosophical notions, we ought to be grateful to themelodiousness, the euphony, and the rich orchestration of the newopera. [The performances of "I Giojelli della Madonna" by theChicago-Philadelphia Opera Company, as it was called in Chicago,the Philadelphia-Chicago Opera Company, as it was called inPhiladelphia, were conducted by Cleofonte Campanini and theprincipal parts were in the hands of Carolina White, Louisa Barat,Amadeo Bassi, and Mario Sammarco.]